I saw the light

This year I found myself facing a dilemma that I haven’t faced in nearly a decade. I don’t know why it suddenly came up, but it did. The question? To dress-up or not to dress-up.

I have to preface all this with the admission that I live for a costume party. Seriously, few things in life make me happier than getting dressed up. I desperately wanted to make our house-warming party an ’80s theme costume party, but – here comes the #1 factor contributing to my recent lack of costumes…Hubby #1 is a party pooper. So, as Mrs. Party Pooper, I never dressed up for Halloween because we were (sniff, sniff) never invited to any fabulous Halloween parties, and I wasn’t going to be the only adult dressed for the occasion out trick-or-treating with my kids. The not dressing up thing got so deeply ingrained in my head, that wearing a costume almost completely fell off my radar and, I fear, I started thinking like he thinks. Then, I started to see the light.

It all started when we surprised the kids with a trip to Disneyland to see the Halloween decorations last week. (I know, we’re the most super cool parents ever.) In the parking lot, I was startled to see a woman in a full-on Belle costume complete with brunette ringlet wig and yellow hoop skirt.

“Freak alert!” I hissed loudly at Hubby #1 not wanting him to miss the spectacle that I was witnessing.

I felt very superior in my plain old jeans and sweatshirt. As our adventure to the happiest place on earth continued, I realized that there were lots and lots of freaks. I excitedly pointed them out the Hubby #1 as we made our way through the park.

Then, around the time we were in line for Dumbo and I spotted a family in full Toy Story regalia – Dad as Woody, Mom as Bo Peep complete with newborn in Snuggly dressed like a sheep, and son as Buzz Lightyear, I had a thought. Maybe these folks were not the freaks. Maybe I was the freak. Maybe they were the cool ones? They’d gone all out. Good for them. I was the loser who wasn’t even wearing orange and black, let alone wearing a costume.

This idea festered in my head for the rest of the week and I decided that I wanted to dress-up for Halloween this year. The problem, of course, was that I (more sniff, sniffs) didn’t have a costume. Finally, I decided on Halloween morning that I would dress up as Fancy Nancy (the little, red-headed girl from the books who likes to make everything fancy). I thought Baby #1 would be thrilled…but she wasn’t. In fact, she acted a little embarrassed that I would even consider that. So, I started going through my closet. The problem was that the height of my costume wearing days was so long ago, and the chances of the same costumes fitting seemed unlikely. Then I found an old pair of overalls, and Farmer Kirsten was born. It was perfect. Everyone was happy.

I proudly wore my costume as we went trick-or-treating; I even talked Mr. Party Pooper himself into dressing up. And guess what…we costume wearers were the majority! It was by far the most fun Halloween I’ve had in a long time, and I’m already starting to think about what I’m going to wear next year.

Happy Belated Halloween. I hope no matter how old you are that you remember you’re never too old for a Halloween costume – except the geriatric Snow White…she was too old for it, but good for her for not caring.

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